


I'm grateful all the same

by LolaIbz



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Ficlet, Romance, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:02:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28285170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LolaIbz/pseuds/LolaIbz
Summary: Hecate is grateful for many things. Despite everything, she will always be grateful for many things.
Relationships: Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Kudos: 23





	I'm grateful all the same

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short unbeta-ed fic because December has been hectic but I'm grateful with life despite the difficult year (and I haven't posted anything in ages). Written while baking coconut and chocolate muffins, so you can imagine the level of sugar in this story.  
> Have a Merry Christmas and stay safe

Hecate Hardbroom has not had many chances to be grateful to life. Granted, her life was difficult enough early on. Growing up without a mother figure and with only scant memories of a loving though bedridden dark-haired woman, she didn't have much of anything to be greateful for. Not when her father had all but thrusted her into a boarding institution at an all too young age and deprived her of the menial pleasures children take on menial things. Love, warmth and tenderness were not in Calaf Ladislav Hardbroom's vocabulary (nor in his nature).  
Hecate was not particularly grateful for being on the receiving end of her classmate's harrowing and name-calling, nor was she grateful for the Indigo Moon incident (pertinent as the punishment was).  
So no, Hecate Hardbroom had not had many things to be grateful for in life until a certain perky blonde quite literally plowed into her life, bumping hard into her after a midnight raid in the kitchen. Sweets, and books, and quills had flown everywhere and Hecate still remembers, she wasn't particularly grateful for her sore bottom. She can vividly recall the dressing-down brewing at the tip of her tongue, ready to come out, when all of a sudden, kind careful hands helped her up and a quiet voice asked whether she was ok, remorse and worry palpable on her whisper.  
From then on, the then akward lanky brunette and now formidable potions mistress found herself grateful more often than not. Even after that fateful day when she stood Pippa up at the water ski/broom display, she was content in the knowledge that Pippa would be better off without her to mar and stain her inherently kind and sunny nature. Even when they re-encountered after a few decades of stubborn hurtful silence, Hecate found herself content with the woman standing in front of her, self-made, confident, a force to be reckoned with. A soul so kind that her warmth radiated in waves and people swarmed towards her like a magnet, but also a no-nonsense imposing hedmistress who didn't suffer fools gladly.  
Nonetheless, looking back on all of that now, Hecate realises that the feeling of gratefulness she felt then cannot nearly hold a candle to the all-encompassing heady feeling that swells in her chest and spreads through her limbs at the sight of her lover walking slowly into the room with a swollen midsection.  
Pippa sets her steamy mug on the coffee table and carefully stretches to put a wayward fairy light back in place, her other hand going instinctively to her bump. She had started to truly show only last month, when she was well into her fourth month, and both witches had been beside themselves with joy. The timid bump had progressed during the last weeks into a slightly more noticeable one, riding Pippa's most snug sweaters up.  
An absolute feeling of adoration and love warmed Hecate from inside out when Pippa, satisfied with the current state of the Yule decorations, sighed happily and plopped down next to her, quickly gravitating towards the darker witch. The potions mistress pretended to focus on her book but put an arm around the blonde's waist, coming to rest on the side of her ribs while tracing a soothing pattern with her thumb.  
\- "Do you think it will snow, Hiccup?" - Pipa inquired before taking a sip of coccoa -  
\- "It just might but I'm not sure we are going to have a white Yule, snowfall has been quite despondent so far this year, Pipsqueak"  
\- "Anyway, it'll be perfect" - the blonde said ensconcing further into the other woman - "With or without snow"  
-"That it will" -the brunette asured dropping a quick kiss to the top of her lover's hair and squeezing her slightly -  
This time next year they'd be sharing this same room with their daughted, their very own daughter. A rare occurence even in the wizarding world but pretty much possible where deep abiding love prevailed.  
Yes, Hecate Hardbroom couldn't help but being grateful to life for it has brought her here and now. Because life, like potions, has its sweets and bitter ingredients and all of them are equally necessary.


End file.
